The End
by LightPersona
Summary: Just a short story I wrote for my English Class. It's just a little oneshot during the ending of Mass Effect 3


'So this is it,' He pondered, lying on his back. His mind was drifting, trying to distance itself from the pain. 'This is how it's going to end.' His right leg was unnaturally contorted. 'Broken in a couple places.' he supposed. He honestly wasn't expecting anything different, after all that happened. Bleeding to death in the control room of the Citadel wasn't how he imagined he would go, but there was nothing to do about that now. 'I suppose that the Reapers are destroying Earth right now.' he tiredly thought. He had failed after all. The Citadel wouldn't be firing its payload. The forces down on the ground would wait for it, at first expectantly, then in panic. But it wouldn't come, and they would die. His thoughts were turning morbid, but he supposed that's what happens when one starts to die.

His head lulled, and he looked over to the right. Anderson was lying dead next to him. The Illusive Man, traitor that he was, had shot Anderson, before he had killed himself. Anderson had bled out in minutes. One more person he couldn't save one more failure on top of his others. And he had oh so many others.

He wouldn't be meeting his team for drinks after this. 'No more competitions with Garrus.' he realized, which laid yet another level of guilt on him. He wouldn't be able to walk with Tali on her planet. Her people had just managed to reclaim their planet after three centuries, and he wouldn't be able to share in that. At least the Geth , thanks to Legion's sacrifice, would be able to keep her people safe for a while. They might even be able to survive this purge, hidden deep in space in their flotilla. But he knew that was wishful thinking. The Reapers had sworn to wipe out all of the advanced life in the galaxy. They, like the Protheans, would be a footnote in history, and he doubted humanities achievements would be passed on like the Prothean's were.

His successes only made him despair more his failures. The peace between the Krogan, the Salarians, and the Turians had been thanks to him. He was responsible for the Genophage, the genetic disease manufactured by the Salarians that had kept the warlike Krogan population down, being cured. And thanks to his friend Wrex, the Krogans would have been willing to make peace, and not conquer the galaxy as the Salarians had feared. But this would not come to pass. This, and so many others of his successes, meant nothing, as it would all be wiped away by the relentless assault of the Reapers.

He heard his radio squeak through the static. They were asking for him, calling for him, begging him to do something. They were begging him to be the hero that they had built him up to be. But he was tired. Tired and oh so cold. He had long since lost feeling in his right leg. He didn't have the same mercy on his arms, nearly crippled from a husks attack on him.

Nevertheless, he used some remaining reserves of strength to push his body over to the radio. "I'm…. I'm too wounded to do anything further. The Illusive Man has doomed us." He slowly wheezed out into the receiver. Silence was what he received. Then; "I see." That simple phrase hurt him. He could feel the crushed hopes of his species behind that phrase. And he felt his own crushed hopes. "I'm sorry…. I tried, I really did. I can't go on. I can't save you." He wept. He didn't receive a response. He slowly inched back to his previous spot, next to Anderson.

The time was coming, and he could feel it. He was all alone in this control center. All alone, even after having spent so much time gathering friends around him. Garrus, Tali, Ashley, Liara, Wrex. More and more friends flashed through his mind, all those who had stuck with him during his time on the Normandy. The ones who had come with him and stopped Sovereign, the first Reaper they had encountered. Those friends who had gone past the Omega 4 Relay with him, to take down the collector base. And those who had brought together their peoples, bringing together the forces that would push back the Reapers long enough for him to use the Citadel to end it.

Thinking of all his friends, he started to feel a rage grow within him. Why must the Reapers take it from him? After all his hard work, he deserved to be able to enjoy the rest of his life with his family. He made his choice. He couldn't just lie here. He didn't want to die alone on this station. He dragged himself over to the control panel in the room. The control panel hadn't allowed him to use the weapon to end the Reapers. Because of this piece of junk, known life would end. He hit the console once with his hand. Then again. His strikes, though weak due to his injuries, were powered by his desperate rage.

Again and again he hit the console, his hands growing more and more bloody, his already wounded arms shaking. He felt the console give way under his rage. The ground then shook. A platform was lifting him up. He looked around in confusion once the platform had reached a new room. There, in front of him, was a beam of energy.

Somehow, he knew what he needed to do. He knew that to throw himself into the beam would end the reaper threat. He knew that it would also most likely end his life. He thought about his friends, and all the people who would be depending on him. If he didn't do this, they wouldn't live. He would never be with his loved ones again. But he knew if he did this, they would make it through. With that, he made his choice.


End file.
